


hard to breathe

by cptniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 15-Year-Old Harry, 16-Year-Old Harry, 17-Year-Old Louis, 18-Year-Old Louis, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, OT5, The X Factor Era, Truth or Dare, niall knows everything, zayn on a plane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4191030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptniall/pseuds/cptniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Canon-compliant AU where Louis and Harry meet each other at The Script concert before meeting again on X Factor.</p><p>thanks brigitte for being an awesome beta u rock</p>
            </blockquote>





	hard to breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wreckingtomlinson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreckingtomlinson/gifts).



Louis Tomlinson has plenty of secrets. He’s 17, after all, and pretty much every 17-year-old to ever exist has kept things from their friends and family. But he has one secret in particular that he protects more than the others.  

Being 17 is a hard time for nearly everyone. There’s so much confusion, so many hormones, and way too much self-doubt. 17 is the prime-time for discovering who you really are, who you really want to be, who can be trusted, and who is actually worth your time and effort. Louis is struggling with all these things. Louis fucking hates being 17.

Nobody knows that, of course, being that Louis is one of the most outlandish, extroverted and, if he does say so himself, hilarious, people at his school. But more often than not, beneath these sorts of facades, people can be the exact opposite of what they seem. The loudest kids, like Louis, can be the most insecure, the ones struggling the most. And Louis is certainly struggling.

He feels like one day soon he’s just going to break. Surely he isn’t strong enough to carry all this. He can feel it coming, can feel it weighing down, and any day now Louis just knows that his knee is going to buckle, he’s going to stumble, and everything will fall apart.

So it’s probably not the best thing for him to be drunk for the first time at The Script concert, without some sort of supervisory figure present. Except he’s not just drunk, he’s kind of plastered. And not only is he not with a responsible adult, he’s with Stan - who is so irresponsible, he practically takes the count below zero down to negative responsible people. 

Louis has been having a great time, singing loudly and swaying and spilling his illegally-acquired beer all over Stan accidentally/on purpose, until all of a sudden, Danny, the lead singer, is talking about love, and how much love has inspired him in writing these songs, and then they’re performing Fall For Anything, and Louis is very, very overwhelmed.

“You okay, mate?” Stan asks, leaning over to Louis and simultaneously bumping Louis’ shoulder with his own. His breath is warm and stinks of beer. Louis hates him a little bit right now.

“Yeah,” Louis manages to respond. He clears his throat, trying to square his narrow shoulders. “I think, I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

Stan nods but Louis is already walking away, not wanting the offer of his best friend coming with him. Louis doesn’t even care that he doesn’t know where the toilets are - he just needs to be away from this moment, he needs to walk somewhere, he needs to— well, he probably needs to stop drinking.

Louis lifts his plastic cup to his lips, tipping it back until the last two mouthfuls are gone. They taste foul, if he’s being honest, but anything tastes better than the thought of feeling this way for another second. 

He doesn’t recognise this feeling. It’s not the same highly-strung, paranoid feeling he usually has when he’s around other people. He feels a little bit nauseous and a lot nervous. It’s different, but no less threatening. 

Louis finally manages to find the door marked “mens”, pushing his way inside roughly, slender frame falling against the door clumsily. There’s an older man in there already, washing his hands, but he shuffles out quickly, much to Louis’ relief. 

Louis doesn’t even need to pee - at least, he doesn’t think he does. It’s hard to tell, at this point. He just feels like he needs to be here. Instead of walking to the urinals, Louis walks to the sinks. There’s three of them, with three big mirrors on the wall above them, opposite to the door. 

Louis doesn’t want to look at himself right now, if he’s being honest. But he does, and his appearance surprises him a little. He chortles as he takes in the messy, straightened hair, droopy eyes and pink lips.

“You are a mess, Louis Tomlinson.” He says to himself, sighing and pulling on the bottom of his plain white t-shirt gingerly. 

He stands there for a few more moments, taking in his own appearance and fiddling with the hem of his shirt before the door bursts open, startling him. 

One lone boy walks in, but stops short in the doorway when he notices Louis is looking at him in the mirror. He doesn’t mean to, and he blames it entirely on the beer, but regardless, he’s still staring.

The boy is rather young looking - younger than Louis, by the looks of things - quite attractive, with curly brown hair, wide green eyes, and most importantly, he seems to be completely harmless. 

“Hi.” Louis says, still staring at the boy in the mirror with a stunned expression.

“Hello.” He replies, expression softening into a much friendlier one. Louis turns to face him, eyes wandering from his stupid purple Supra high tops, up past baggy jeans and a plain black t-shirt to a face that looks even friendlier and more attractive than it did in the mirror.

“I’m drunk.” 

He feels the words coming out of his mouth, and god he really wishes he could stop them, because he sounds so stupid right now.

“I’m not” the boy says after a small giggle, the kind that almost startles Louis a bit. His voice is deep, far too deep for someone who looks no older than 16 and has adorable dimples in both cheeks when he smiles.

The boy takes a step forward, but doesn’t make any effort to brush Louis off.

“Good show, yeah?” Louis continues, equally as dumb as before.

Louis isn’t at all the type to make conversation with a stranger in a random loo at a Script concert, but to be honest, he feels like this is what he needs right now. 

He just wants to talk. After all, it’s much easier to talk to strangers about certain things than it is to talk to those we actually know. And Louis is certainly not comfortable talking to his mum or his sisters or his stepdad or any of his friends, for that matter, about what’s really on his mind 85% of the time, or what’s making him feel physically ill right now.

“Really good.” The boy grins, folding his arms over his chest. “I love their stuff.”

“Me too.” Louis manages a small smile, feeling himself unclench a little, but not nearly enough. He feels heavy. 

“Loads of cute boys here too.” The boy breezes past Louis, dropping the words on him like it’s nothing. He leans his back against the sinks, returning his gaze to Louis, who has turned around to face him. He stares at the boy, slack-jawed and startled.

“Are you…” Louis clears his throat, looking down at the floor awkwardly. He may be drunk, but he’s not impolite. “Are you gay?”

Well, maybe he is impolite.

The boy nods eagerly, unfazed, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like Louis just asked him if he likes ice cream, or if he’s happy with his decision to wear fucking purple Supras. 

Louis is shocked at the way that he didn’t even hesitate before admitting that. This boy has got to be no older than 16, and seems so content with admitting that he fancies other boys. Louis feels his chest grow tighter as he thinks about how brave the boy must be, and he wonders if the other kids at his school tease him like the kids at Louis’ school had teased Michael Walsh when he came out. Louis pushes these thoughts to a dark corner of his mind he often ignores, though they still nag at him as he continues staring at the boy in front of him 

“Girls are lovely too, but I mostly fancy boys. Wouldn’t say I’m bisexual, though. Definitely gay.”

Louis’ hands begin to tremble as he contemplates what to say next. What the fuck is he supposed to say next? He’s totally drunk, and yes, this boy is just stranger in a venue bathroom, yet for reasons Louis isn’t quite sure, he seems a lot more _real_ than just a random stranger. His heart begins pounding harder and faster in his chest, the sound of music and cheering outside the bathroom drowned out by the sound of his blood rushing in his ears as he opens his mouth to speak, hands shaking so much he has to steady his beer with his free hand. 

_Fuck it_ , Louis thinks, before he can change his mind, and he is immediately filled with panic and despair when his words are blurted out. 

“I think I might be gay.” 

Louis swallows hard, feeling himself start to sweat as he forces himself to look at the boy’s reaction to Louis’ revelation. It’s the first time Louis has acknowledged this thought in the real world, the first time he’s let it enter the forefront of his mind instead of keeping it in the dark back corners. 

For a moment, Louis thinks that he may not have actually said the words out loud, as the other boy’s face doesn’t even flinch.

“Speaking from experience, if you think you are, then you probably are.” He says, a kind and knowing smile spreading across his young face.

Louis has been trying to avoid acknowledging that very idea for months now. Maybe even years. But he knows the other boy is right. Louis has done his best to keep from dropping his head into his hands, instead biting his lip and blinking back tears. He hadn’t expected this to be so emotional. 

“It’s okay. Really.” The boy continues. Louis definitely doesn’t feel like any of this is okay. “I know how you feel, probably better than most people. It’s scary stuff.” 

Louis drops his gaze to the floor, unable to meet the other boy’s eye. He can’t believe he’s doing this. He’s a complete imbecile. The first time he ever drinks, and he admits to a random adorable stranger that he thinks he’s gay. 

“Have you told anyone?”

“No.” Louis admits, voice sounding strangled and weak. “Not even my mum.”

The boy’s smile becomes wider, still consoling and comforting. Louis feels the tears welling in the back of his eyes, bites down on his lip desperately to keep them from spilling over.

“My sister was the first person I told. Do you have a sister?”

“Four. They aren’t really old enough to understand.” No one understands, Louis thinks as an afterthought. How could they, when not even Louis understands what’s going on?

“If you aren’t ready to tell someone its okay. It’s a big thing.” The boy takes a step closer, pushing gently off the sinks. His voice is soft, deep, reassuring, and Louis feels his chest tightening.

“I just… I don’t…” Louis sighs, frustrated, kicking his Toms against the dirty tiled floor.

“I know.” The boy lets out a breathy laugh. “Trust me, I know.”

Louis looks up again to find that the boy is much closer than he was before. Louis’ breath catches in his throat as he dares himself to look from deep green eyes to plump pink lips.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the tension in the room, but either way, it hits him like a tidal wave. Louis’ never wanted to kiss a girl this much before. Louis’ never wanted to kiss _anyone_ this much before.

Suddenly, Stan bursts through the door, calling Louis’ name in a high-pitched voice, snapping Louis from his trance and causing him to take a deep, hitched breath. Stan yodels something incomprehensible before beckoning Louis in his direction and shutting the bathroom door behind him again.

“Well, I should go.” Louis hesitates, lingering near the boy and trying to think of what he could possibly say in this situation. “Thanks. For this, for… for the chat. If I ever see you again I’ll let you know how it’s all going.” 

“I hope I do.” He smirks. “See you again, that is.”

Louis opens his mouth, about to ask for the boy’s name or phone number, or hopefully say something smooth, when suddenly Stan comes bursting back in. He grabs Louis by the crook of his elbow, screaming about how “they’re playing Break Even! That’s my favourite, Tommo, hurry up!”

“Good luck with everything.” The boy calls after Louis.

“Thank you!” Louis manages to call back, letting himself be dragged back into their seats by Stan.

He means it. He’ll probably never see this boy again, and he is just some random kid in a toilet, but Louis feels lighter than he has in months. 

The boy’s face and the words Louis had said to him fade from Louis’ memory after a few weeks, mostly due to Louis trying his best to forget. He doesn’t want to remember. He doesn’t want to think about the good looking (albeit young) kid, he doesn’t want to think about what they’d discussed, and he certainly doesn’t want to remember the one and only time he’s allowed himself to think that he might be gay. 

 

~~~

  

Auditioning for the X-Factor was by far the most nerve-wracking moment of Louis’ entire 18 years of existing, but so far, it’s been one of the greatest. He isn’t one of the better ones on the show, he knows that. He’s already seen at least six other guys that are much more talented, and he’s heard pretty much all the other contestants talking about some kid named Liam who blew everyone away, but he feels really _happy_ to be here. Louis feels like he can really be himself when he’s singing. He doesn’t have to _be_ anything, he can just exist and express himself in the best way. The idea that he can make a life out of it is something that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his stomach do back flips.

Louis’ in the bathroom minding his own business and doing what most people do when standing at urinals one afternoon when a boy he’s heard people call Harry walks in. Louis avoids eye contact, as is only polite when you’re standing at a urinal. But Harry seems to have different ideas. 

Harry’s eyes are fixed on Louis, even after Louis has stopped weeing and put his dick back in his pants, and it makes Louis’ skin feel hot and suddenly his hair feels too long and his pants are too bright and his shoes don’t go with the rest of his outfit and every other choice Louis has made about his appearance is called into question. 

“Hi” Louis manages to get out. He hates the way his voice sounds shaky, like he’s nervous. He totally isn’t nervous. Really.

Harry’s still so intently staring at Louis for god knows what reason that he doesn’t seem to realise that his stream is following his gaze — and that’s how Harry’s wee ended up on Louis’ pants. 

“Oops.” Harry’s cheeks immediately flush bright pink, matching his lips (Louis is sure he’s wearing lipstick), and Louis can’t help but laugh.

“It’s alright mate, happens to the best of us.” Louis says as he walks to one of the cubicles to get toilet paper to help clean the wee stain. 

“I’m so sorry” Harry says, and Louis is almost taken aback by how deep his voice is for such a young looking boy. 

“It’s fine, really. These pants are a bit ridiculous anyway.” Louis smiles, and it seems to ease Harry’s embarrassment. He pats his pants with the folded up toilet paper for a few moments while Harry just stands and stares, still looking half-mortified. Appropriate reaction given what just happened, Louis thinks. 

“I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” Louis says once he’s straightened up and placed the toilet paper in the bin, deciding against offering Harry his hand, for obvious reasons. 

“Nice to meet you, Louis Louis Tomlinson, I’m Harry Harry Styles.” Harry beams back at Louis, one of the happiest smiles he’s ever seen. It only lasts a few seconds, however, before Harry gets back to looking at Louis like he’s studying him.

“What’s wrong? D’you wee on my face too?” Louis asks, joking of course. Harry shakes his head, remaining silent. “What is it then? Clearly something.”

Harry opens his mouth to speak, looking like he obviously wants to say something, but he isn’t quite sure how to say it.

“This might sound really weird…”

“Most things about this situation are weird right now, a little more won’t hurt.” Louis laughs, walking over to the sink to wash his hands. Mostly to distract himself so that he won’t just be standing and staring at Harry and Harry’s curls and Harry’s dimples and Harry’s lips and Harry’s adorable face anymore.

“I just thought… did…” Harry started, clearing his throat. “Did you go to a Script concert? Like a year or two ago?”

Louis immediately freezes in his place. His stomach seems to have dropped out his arse and his heart feels like it’s being squished. He’s not even sure he’s breathing anymore, but the room around him seems to get darker and smaller.

He’s contemplated dashing out the door, quitting the X-Factor, changing his name and never looking back, but for some god forsaken reason, he’s completely frozen to the ground in fear. He pleads with his body to move, to turn around and to tell Harry that he’s mistaken, that Louis never went to a Script concert and that he hates concerts and music and joy, but fuck knows why, he can’t. 

_How could he have forgotten those curls?_

Harry seems to pick up on Louis’ distress, quickly (but after what seems like weeks) adding, “Sorry, it must have been someone else.”

Fucking fuck fuck. 

Louis finally turns around, and looks Harry in the eye for exactly 0.7 seconds before looking down at the bathroom floor. He knows Harry doesn’t really think he had been mistaken. He knows Harry was just being polite. And he knows that Harry remembers. He fucking remembers. Which makes Harry Styles the only person walking the face of the Earth that knows that Louis Tomlinson is gay.

The door bursts open suddenly, the sheer sound of it making Louis jump nearly forty feet in the air. 

“Whoa, sorry lads, didn’t mean to scare ya!” comes a cheery voice, and Louis looks up to see a blonde boy walk right between Louis and Harry to the urinals and start taking a piss, as if he has absolutely no concept of the intensity of the situation occurring around him. 

Louis takes this as an opportunity, darting out the door as quickly as possible and trying his best not to cry as he walks down the hall. One foot after another. Step, step, step, he feels like he isn’t walking fast enough and he just wants to get _out._  

A bright, burning light has just been shone on that dark corner of Louis mind that he ignores. There’s no hiding now. He tries to push the memory of what just happened, of what happened two years ago, to the back of his mind, but he _can’t_. Everything seems so present and it burns in his mind and makes his heart beat in double time and Louis just wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He never thought he’d see Harry Styles again. But now that he has, Louis has the feeling it won’t be the last time.  

 

~~~

 

Even after the bathroom event, Louis was particularly gutted when he didn’t make it through bootcamp. He was only half way through thinking “oh well, at least I tried and I won’t spend the rest of my life wondering what if” when he was called back by the judges along with Liam, the blonde from the toilets, another boy he didn’t recognise (but boy he wishes he did, because wow) and, because this just was not Louis Tomlinson’s week, Harry fucking Styles. 

After the announcement that they’re making it through as a group, the five boys were absolutely blind with joy, and Louis found himself in Harry’s arms as they all screamed with excitement on the stage. He still isn’t entirely sure how it happened, but as much as Louis wants to avoid Harry, he smells like strawberry shampoo and tea and it makes Louis want to bury his head in Harry’s hair.  

One of the first things Niall suggested after they were put together as a group was a bonding session. Liam wanted to have a movie marathon, and after five hours of being snuggled up together on a sofa watching their favourite movies, it seemed like a brilliant idea to play truth or dare in the dark while Niall, Louis and Zayn share a six-pack. 

“Harry’s turn to pick someone.” Liam beams, his silhouette rocking back and forwards slightly. He’s been having far too much fun with all this. Louis makes a mental note to fuck with him a little more the next chance he gets.

Harry narrows his eyes, cheeky smile stretching across his face as he looks from boy to boy. His gaze hesitates on Niall, but ultimately rests on Louis. Naturally.

“Louis.” Harry announces, drawn out and low. “I pick Louis.”

“Truth or dare, Louis!” Niall sings, slapping Louis on the leg with a big grin. 

Louis contemplates his choice for a moment, not sure of which he’s more terrified. He doesn’t want to pick truth - doesn’t want to be at the mercy of the curiosity of four young boys, one of which he once told he was gay in a concert bathroom. 

But, as Louis looks from Niall’s waggling eyebrows to Zayn’s pervy smirk, he knows above all else that he doesn’t want to get forced to do whatever weird, sexual deviancy his bandmates have in mind for him.

“I pick truth, you filthy bastards.” Louis scowls at them, causing giggles to erupt throughout the dimly lit circle. 

Louis takes a deep breath, trying desperately not to let his breathing pick up or his hands start to sweat, the intimacy of their environment not allowing any sort of discretion. He’s not nervous. He won’t let himself be made nervous by Harry Styles. He can’t. 

Harry purses his lips, scanning Louis’ face as though he’s trying to read his expression. It won’t work, Louis thinks. Not even Louis knows what he’s feeling right now, so Harry surely can’t determine it.

He clicks his tongue a little, tapping his index finger on his chin thoughtfully, but Louis can see it in his eyes - he knew what he was going to ask Louis before it was even his turn to pick someone.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Louis blinks once, twice, three times at Harry, as Zayn and Liam “ooooh” and “awww” from their spots in the circle. He can’t hear them. He can’t even look at them. He can’t look away from Harry’s eyes, green and wide, staring back at him with what looks more like sincerity and wonder than curiosity. 

The truth is, no, Louis hasn’t been in love. He’s had a girlfriend or two, but he’s definitely never been in love. He knows that. 

But for some god-unknown reason, as he holds Harry’s lingering gaze, Louis can’t bring himself to say it.

“No.” Louis eventually stumbles, tongue quickly swiping across his lips. “No. Haven’t.” 

“Poor Tommo.” Niall snickers teasingly, leaning over into Louis’ lap. 

“It’s alright, someday you’ll find the right girl.” Liam chimes in, a sympathetic smile on his face. Louis glances down at the floor, avoiding Liam’s eye immediately, not wanting him to see anything in Louis’ expression worth thinking twice about.  

“Girl, boy, fairy prince, it’s all irrelevant, isn’t it?” Niall waves a hand, beer sloshing around in the bottle. Louis looks up again, small smile playing on his lips. “There’s a someone out there for everyone.”

“That’s actually really deep, Niall.” Zayn notes, raising his eyebrows and taking another sip of his own beer.

“Mate, I’m a fucking philosiphiser when I have a few drinks.” Niall winks at Zayn, but the rest of the boys burst into fits of hysterical laughter.

“And now you’ve ruined it.” Zayn replies, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “You’re a mess.”

“Alright! Let’s not forget, it’s my turn, I get to pick someone now.” Louis exclaims, the other four quietening immediately. 

Louis’ been waiting for this one for a while now, and he has a good idea of who he wants to pick and what he wants to ask of them, but he lets the other boys stew for a moment, bringing his beer bottle up to his lips and squinting thoughtfully. 

“Who will I pick, who will I pick…” He muses, loving the way Liam is squirming under his gaze. Not so brave now.

Niall on the other hand, looks like he’s near begging out loud to be chosen. 

“Zayn.” Louis decides finally. “Truth or dare, Malik?”

Zayn meets Louis gaze, brazenly smirking back and announcing, “Dare”. 

Good, Louis thinks, biting back a smile.

“I dare you to…” Louis looks from Liam to Niall to Harry, all three of them leaning forward expectantly, “kiss Niall.”

The way that Liam and Harry fuss about and squeal and squawk is quite amusing to Louis, because honestly, how were they not expecting this to happen eventually? They’ve been playing truth or dare for 15 minutes now, and outside of Liam being dared to touch Zayn’s dick through his sweatpants, it hasn’t gotten to the weird sexual stage that every game of truth or dare deviates to eventually.

Louis looks from Zayn to Niall, notices the way both of them are smiling and laughing and not at all looking bashful or nervous. His own face screws up a little at that, not entirely comprehending how they could be okay with this. They’re being asked to kiss another boy that they’re friends with, how can they not feel weird about it? Are they not worried about making things awkward, or one of them, god forbid, getting a boner?

Niall crawls across the circle towards Zayn, ass in Louis’ face as he does so. Then, without hesitation, they’re kissing. Both boys have their hands on the floor, holding themselves up, no element of romance about it as they kiss, mouths open and eyes closed. Then, in a few seconds, it’s over.

Harry makes teasing noises and Louis joins in a little bit, but Liam just sits, staring blankly as the boys separate and Niall crawls back to his spot.

“That was good, you are one hell of a kisser, Zayn.” Niall notes, wagging his finger towards Zayn, who wipes the back of his mouth with his hand. “Very good." 

“Thanks, Niall.” Zayn chirps with a happy smile. 

Of course neither of them feel any shame. Louis should have expected that, honestly. He hasn’t known these boys long, but he’s never met anyone as comfortable with their sexuality as Niall Horan. And Zayn, well, Zayn will kiss anyone. 

“Alright, Zayn’s turn.” Harry rubs his hands together expectantly. 

“Harry.” He announces without hesitation, turning his gaze to the curly headed boy. Harry doesn’t look at all phased. “Truth or dare?” 

Harry smiles, big and wide, before answering, “dare.” 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Zayn smirks before finishing the last mouthful of his beer. Louis still has a half left of his second, and Niall finished his a few minutes ago. 

“Bring it on.” Harry challenges. 

“Harry, I dare you and Louis to kiss.”

Fuck.

In all fairness, Louis should have been expecting that. He should have known that either Zayn or Niall would want to exact truth or dare revenge at first opportunity. The punishment fits the crime, he thinks. But he still doesn’t think this is fair. 

Louis can see Harry staring at him out of the corner of his eye, Niall, Zayn and Liam watching both boys carefully. Louis looks up from the floor, meeting Harry’s eye, and immediately his breath hitches. 

Louis has never kissed a boy before, and to be honest, he didn’t want to be kissing a boy for the first time in front of three guys he hardly knows. And he didn’t want that boy to be someone who knows that Louis might be gay, someone who Louis has to spend most of his time with over the next however-long. Someone Louis can’t escape from if questions arise.

His heart is beating so loud he can’t hear anything else, can’t hear if the boys are making a fuss. The only thing in focus in Louis’ mind is Harry, Harry’s lips, pink and puffy and leaning towards him. Harry’s gaze drops down, watching Louis’ own lips as he continues to lean in, closer and closer, Louis’ chest tightening and his breath running out. His whole body twitches as Harry licks his lips, preparing himself for a kiss Louis knows is coming. 

Harry’s face is mere inches from Louis’ now, and Louis can’t take it anymore. He takes Harry’s face in his hands, pulling him forward the rest of the distance and slapping a big, dramatic kiss to his flushed cheek. 

“Beautiful!” Niall comments while cackling. Harry looks slightly shellshocked as he retreats, but gives Louis a small smile as he does.

“I’m a pretty good kisser.” Louis jokes, causing Liam and Harry to join in Niall’s laughter. 

“Come on, that was cheating.” Zayn whines.

“Who cares, technically there was a kiss involved.” Niall responds, leaning over Liam and giving Zayn a consoling pat on the leg. “Let’s keep it going, Harry! Your turn again! And if someone doesn’t pick me soon I’m gonna bottle all of ya.”

Louis feels relieved, but his cheeks are still burning and he still can’t quite breathe properly. He can’t help but feel like even that was too much. Too much, and too close.

He sneaks a glance out the corner of his eye to Harry, only to find Harry is looking back at him.

Harry smiles - genuinely and reassuringly, but it doesn’t ease the feeling that starts in Louis’ chest and goes all the way down to his stomach. It’s beginning to eat away at Louis, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take. 

Louis smiles back. 

 

~~

 

The plane ride to Simon’s house in Spain torturous, to say the least - and not just because Zayn is clutching to the armrest he’s sharing with Louis and shrieking about how he doesn’t want the plane to go upside down.

It’s torturous because on the other side of Louis, is Harry. Happy, giggly, adorable, fucking perfect Harry.

Louis still barely knows him, but most of his moments are spent thinking about him and whether he should avoid him or just play it cool, planning each individual word that he’s going to say next time a conversation arises.

It’s exhausting, Louis thinks. He’s never been like this before; everything has always come easily to him when it comes to interacting with people. But with Harry, his jokes seem forced and his laugh seems too loud and most of the time he struggles to breathe. 

And here Harry is, brushing his fucking arm against Louis’ like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t send shivers throughout Louis’ entire body. What an asshole.

“I bought some Pringles at the airport before we left, do you want some?” Harry asks, voice low as he reaches into the carry-on at his feet.

Maybe asshole was the wrong word.

“They’re salt and vinegar.” Harry adds, pulling the tube out and offering it to Louis. Louis remains still, hands gripping the arm rest almost as hard as Zayn is. Harry rattles the tube at Louis. “Come on, take them. I don’t even like this flavour.”

“Then why’d you buy them?” Louis finally takes the Pringles incredulously and pops open the lid. 

“They’re your favourite.” Harry comments with a shrug. Louis hand slips, fumbling with the tube and ends up sending Pringles flying all over his and Harry’s laps.

“I am so sorry.” Louis mumbles awkwardly, reaching out for the spilled chips. He flinches like he’s been burned when two of his fingertips brush an unmistakeable lump in Harry’s pants. He balls his fists, resting them in his lap carefully with a mumbled “sorry.”

At this point, even though his gaze is trained straight ahead, Louis can tell that Harry is trying to stifle a giggle.

“Don’t.” Louis warns him, causing Harry’s giggles to spill out.

“Sorry.” Harry manages, picking up the last of his lap-Pringles. Louis bites his lip, feeling a grin stretch over his face until he can’t hold it anymore, a choked laugh escaping him.

Before long both he and Harry are in hysterics, much to Zayn’s distress. Harry’s head is leaned all the way back, eyes crinkled and laugh loud, while Louis is doubled over and struggling to breathe. 

After the laughter finally dies down, Harry shoots Louis a smile that Louis instinctively reciprocates. He feels it, feels it warming his insides and stretching his face and as silly as it is, this is one of his favourite X-Factor memories so far. And fuck if it’s not just because he’s with Harry.

“I’m gonna go to the loo, d’you mind?” Harry asks after a moment, still smiling. 

Louis pulls Zayn up with him (after Zayn makes a huge fuss about taking off his seatbelt), both moving out of the cramped row and into the aisle. Louis leans awkwardly against an older woman’s seat as Harry pushes past him to head towards the toilets.

A small bit of turbulence happens to hit at that moment, sending a terrified Zayn falling into Liam’s lap with a yelp, earning another big laugh from Louis. 

The two boys return to their seats shortly after, but after a few long minutes, Louis starts to worry. It’s not like he’s waiting for Harry to come back, but it’s hard not to count the seconds when all Zayn is doing is shakily mumbling Rihanna songs to himself. 

Another two minutes and 45 seconds pass before Louis starts to get genuinely concerned that Harry may have fallen in or gotten stuck or something. That, Louis tells himself, is why he gets up to go check on Harry. That, and that alone. 

Just as Louis reaches the bathroom, the door swings open slowly, and Harry stares back at him with widened eyes.

“Taking your sweet time aren’t you! What are you doing back here?” 

Harry looks at him with a meaningful expression, taking a step closer to Louis. It’s not the first time Harry’s given him this look, and Louis knows what it means. He always has. And it scares the hell out of him. 

“I’m scared.” Harry admits, voice quiet and shaky. 

“You’re telling me.” Louis whispers, slightly exasperated. “Harry… I’m fucking terrified. Every time I look at you, I’m terrified.” He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and locking eyes with Harry. “Because I— I like you, Harry. I don’t want to, but I… maybe I do want to. All I know is I do, and I can’t stop thinking about you, and I don’t know what to do.

Harry blinks slowly, puffy lips almost pouting. He’s silent for what feels like years, and Louis really wishes he would just say _something_. Not like Louis just put himself out there or anything.

“I mean that I’m scared about the plane crashing and stuff.” Harry says slowly. “I don’t really like flying, and the turbulence freaked me out.”

Of fucking course.

“Oh.”

Louis looks to drop his gaze to the floor in complete and utter embarrassment and shame, but Harry’s hand on his arm stops him. 

“It’s okay, Louis.” Harry whispers, thumb brushing circles on Louis’ tanned forearm.  

“Really?” Louis’ voice struggles. “Sometimes it really doesn’t feel like it.” 

“It will get better.” Harry assures him, squeezing his arm. “And I’m gonna be there for you. Whether you like it or not.”

“Everything feels better when I’m with you.” Louis admits, to himself and to Harry.  

His whole life is changing right now - with these four boys, it feels like something great is happening. Louis feels his whole life changing around him, and maybe that’s for the best. Maybe that’s what he needed all along. 

“Can I kiss you?” Harry whispers, inching closer to Louis, grip tightening on his arm.

Louis’ stomach lurches, chest tightening as swallows hard, remembering back to that night at the Script concert, and the night they played truth or dare. All he’d wanted was to kiss Harry. He knew it then, and he knows it now.

“You better.”  

Then Harry’s lips are on Louis’, and fuck, Louis has kissed people before, but nothing like this. It’s shaky and a little bit awkward and Louis is holding onto the walls for support, but it’s the most beautiful kiss ever and he feels like nothing else in the world will ever feel this good. 

Harry opens his mouth a little, his tongue pushing against Louis’ lips until they open, their tongues flicking against each other slowly and gently.

Louis has forgotten the rest of the world is out there, to be honest, but he thinks he can faintly hear footsteps approaching. He really doesn’t care at this point. One of Harry’s hands reaches around the back of Louis’ neck, running his fingers through Louis’ hair, as the footsteps retreat again.

Louis pulls away from Harry, their ear-to-ear grins mirroring each other as Louis kisses Harry gently on the nose, just because he can, and an unmistakeable Irish accent calls, “Liam, you owe me $20!”

 


End file.
